'For a moment, or a second, the pinched expressions of the cynical, world-weary, throat-cutting, miserable bastards we’ve all had to become disappear when we’re confronted with something as simple as a plate of food.' — BOURDAIN
'For a moment, or a second, the pinched expressions of the cynical, world-weary, throat-cutting, miserable bastards we’ve all had to become disappear when we’re confronted with something as simple as a plate of food.' — BOURDAIN
WELCOME TO SUPPER CLUB
Our purpose is to foster a vibrant community and forge meaningful connections through intimate gatherings and shared narratives. SSC is where every Smartie is invited to indulge in, engage with and revel in the enchanting realm of gastronomy. Please join us for thoughtfully curated food experiences scattered throughout the year.
OUR MANIFESTO
Ruined idealists though we are, we keep tucked in our hearts, always close to hand, memories of the cooking that gave us our first taste of love.
When bewildered, we reach for these unutterably sacred dishes like a pair of old shoes. It is a most intimate privilege, then, to be taken into one’s gastronomical inner sanctum.
Shared earnestly, food is an insight into someone else’s soul, into their dreams. We soon learn the difference between those who come with a rose and good intentions, or only with the rose.
As our horizons broaden, so do our palates, and the sanctuary of our grandmothers’ kitchens gives way to harsh landscapes and depthless oceans: marrow gouged from bones; urchins snatched from their beds. Coarse, fiery new prizes.
We fall in love again among the heathens, many times—that’s natural. But we do so with the food of integrity, because that’s what we were taught. Tastes we have yet to acquire are only strangers we’ve yet to befriend.
The great meals of our lives tend to blindside us. Revelation is half-chance, a celestial whim, though surely it has much to do with memory. We take a bite—soul-struck, we close our eyes . . . both our past and our future seem up for grabs. Life, again, after so much dross, feels like a story.
Some say poetry is the shortest distance between two humans. We cynical bastards disagree.
VOLUME II:
SECONDS
Volume I is shelved, dust jacket spattered, moments preserved. Tastes were acquired. Plates cleaned. We confessed our enthusiasms and were for a time replete.
We now begin a new story told over six chapters, a journey with half a dozen stops.
Out in the world of sensation, things slip with too much ease—it’s important to remind oneself of home. The French House will do nicely for our first supper. The horizon belongs to San Sebastian, where we’ll have our last.
Along the way, we’ll scour markets and wildernesses and see great fish carved with Japanese steel, and our palates will be confronted and provoked and delighted.
The great benefit of seconds is there’s no holding back.*
Ladies and Gentlemen, we give you Supper Club Volume II.
*Remember, joy is not made to be a crumb.
BE PART OF THE STORY
It’s simple. We’re hungry for your stories. The sudden understanding that stops you mid-bite. The family rituals, the hand-me-down recipes and hole-in-the-wall favourites you keep thinking about long after the meal is over. Share what excites you, comforts you and brings you back to the table. That’s what fuels Supper Club.
If you want to be part of it and in line for an invite to an upcoming chapter, click below to share your photos, videos and stories.
